


Burning Curtains

by UglyJackal



Series: Final Fantasy Shenanigans [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Urianger needs to talk about his feelings more, i love this nerd elf, oh my god stop bottling everything up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 18:24:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyJackal/pseuds/UglyJackal
Summary: Upon entering Urianger’s study, Jack’s ears twitched and his fur raised. There was something off in the air. And looking at Urianger, he seemed to be the source for the pure misery that was tangible on Jack’s tongue.





	Burning Curtains

After the spirit of the father of all dragons had settled himself upon his shoulder, Jack decided to visit Urianger. He was unsure as to why, but the scholar’s presence in particular had a calming effect upon him. Perhaps it was to do with the fact that the man was quiet, and when he did speak, Jack spent more time trying to understand what he actually meant instead of his mind clutching onto his fears. And right now, Jack needed something else to think of when all that plagued him was the thought of Midgardsormr ripping his Blessing clean from his chest, and the look upon Moenbryda’s face, one of eerie peace and will to depart. 

Upon entering Urianger’s study, Jack’s ears twitched and his fur raised. There was something off in the air. And looking at Urianger, he seemed to be the source for the pure  _ misery _ that was tangible on Jack’s tongue.

The elezen was staring at the book in his hands. He was not reading. Maybe to a less observant soul, he would be reading, and the fact that Jack was able to see this was an irony in itself when considering the halved sight of the hrothgar. Jack always remembered the words of his father, a man who had loved his books: ‘ _ A man who was reading wouldn’t notice the curtains burning around him, but a man who was lost in thoughts so heavy he couldn’t stand wouldn’t care for the flames. He would say, ‘Let them come’ _ .’ It was one of the only memories of his father that Jack had held onto.

The noise of the teacup chiming against the china saucer as Jack’s hands shook was what alerted Urianger to his presence. Sometimes it was the smallest noises that could wake someone from their own personal nightmare.

‘Oh… good evening, Jack,’ he said, his mouth stretching into a painful smile. ‘I did not hear thee enter the room. Could I be of any assistance to thee?’

The hrothgar returned the elezen’s smile, both of them hiding an eerily similar pain between their teeth. ‘No, I’m fine,’ he said, the lie spilling from his lips with ease. ‘I just wanted to bring you this.’ He gestured to the teacup in his hands.

There was a shift in Urianger’s smile; the pain was still there, very much so, it was oozing with the ocean of his emotional turmoil, but there was gratitude and flattery that also bled into his lips. It was a welcome sight that made Jack’s heart burst. He only wished that he could see the elezen’s eyes, for he was sure that it would release a hoard of butterflies into his bloodstream.

‘My thanks, Jack,’ he said, ‘I did not think that thou would concern thyself with mine own wellbeing.’

‘Well, I thought you could do with it… after… well, I’m sure you don’t want to think about it.’ The hrothgar looked down, feeling as though he had, despite his words, made Urianger think about it.

In truth, the elezen had not thought of much else.

‘Aye…’ he said quietly.

Jack set down the teacup on the edge of Urianger’s desk, avoiding the various sheets of paper strewn over the table. He saw the glitter fall from the elezen’s smile and it made his heart gallop like a stallion across the shore of a beach, froth spraying and salt burning. He took a deep breath to prepare his next question. ‘Are you… this might sound like a dumb question, but-’ the mage stumbled over his words, spitting them out as though it hurt to keep in his mouth - ‘are you alright?’

There was a pause, where Urianger seemed caught off guard by the question, as though the other Scions did not often ask such things. And then, just as Jack was considering bolting from the room, the scholar’s mouth opened and his throat bade him breath.

‘I am… quite well. I thank thee, Jack, for thy concern.’

‘Now, don’t go trying to fool me of all people, Urianger,’ Jack said, warm comfort tugging at his voice, ‘you can’t kid a kidder.’

The elezen flinched, muscles tensing, sinews hardening, bloodstream howling. His mouth twisted into a whirlpool of pressure, holding back a flood of emotion that would have flowed from deep inside his very soul, that would be concealed from everyone that was not his own self. But then perhaps he even locked himself away from himself. There was a frost that grew over him, jagged silver shards of glass that shredded his skin and cradled his bones. Jack could see it, he could see the pain that it was causing the quiet scholar. Only those that had been frozen by this sort of frost were able to see it when it reached out to another, and it was not a pretty sight.

Before Jack could say anything, the frosted shards melted underneath his goggles and spread out across his cheek. The hrothgar’s ears flattened as he saw the tears drip down his marbled face, and his hand moved as if he were going to try and banish them before the damage was too much.

The elezen bowed his head and raised his hand to his face, trying to wipe away the evidence of his torture. ‘I apologise, Jack,’ he said, voice strained with the effort to keep his baritone steady. ‘Thou shouldst not have to see this.’

‘Hey, no, don’t think like that,’ he replied, tilting his head. ‘Everyone has emotions, Urianger... and… and no one should begrudge you for having them.’ He looked away for a minute, his thoughts somewhere far into the past for just a moment.

The elezen breathed deep, sucking in the courage to speak, to keep the air in his lungs that threatened to collapse from the sheer grief that engulfed him, his fingers trembling from the tsunami that rocked his heart, sour sea salt crystallising on his ribs.

‘D’you wanna talk about it?’ Jack asked, hesitation bristling in his fur as he took a seat next to the elezen. There was a small distance between them to offer respect of Urianger’s personal space, but they were close enough for the heat that bled from the hrothgar to sink into the scholar should he need a warm hand to hold in the middle of his storm. Jack was delighted to see a small smile in answer to his question.

‘I am afraid I… I am not well versed in talking about anything concerning myself,’ the elezen said, his words nervous, something that Jack had not experienced from him.

‘Somehow I thought you might say that,’ the hrothgar said with a smile. ‘Just… how are you feeling? If you have any regrets or thoughts that you’re holding in, it’s so much better to speak them. Because bottling it up… it only makes everything worse.’

Urianger nodded, face screwed up in thought, and for once, Jack felt like the teacher. And there was a deep, abyssal sadness in having to teach the scholar who had taught everyone else so much about something so simple as how to talk about himself.

‘I miss her,’ the elezen finally said, after what felt like hours of silence. ‘I have been sitting here, at this desk, since I hath heard the news… and I have not moved, nor have I thought of aught else but… but the fact that she is dead.’ The word looked as though it was harder to say than hear it. 

And it was only when Urianger’s voice broke thrice over on the word that Jack looked carefully enough to see the light bouncing off of thick chasms on the elezen’s cheeks where the ocean had bled from the core of the sun. And once the rock had been pushed from the ledge, there was no stopping the moss that clung to it or the ocean that pushed and pushed with yet greater force. ‘I wish… more than aught else that I had told her. The lady was so very dear to me, so close to mine own heart. I doth not know whether she harboured the same feelings that I didst for her, though I very much doubt it, but… I dearly long that I hadst but gathered enough courage to tell her plainly.’

It was selfish of him to think the way that he did, but Jack could not help but feel the sharp hurricane twist of jealousy in his stomach as Urianger told him about his feelings for Moenbryda. Everyone knew that the pair had been made for each other, but the hrothgar had conveniently ignored the signs in front of his nose.

It was with a very small and very timid voice so wildly uncharacteristic of the scholar that shattered Jack’s heart like a stained glass window. ‘I doth not know how I will move on.’

The hrothgar knew what he had to do.

‘Look, I know… I know how it feels. Losing loved ones, you know. By the Twelve, I’ve never been good with… words. My family was… they were better at… physical comfort.’ Jack trailed off, eyes downcast, forests and sunlight bowing in their shared agony, heart clenching in an aura of bolted lightning, thinking of embraces long lost.

‘Was it thine family that thou lost?’ Urianger asked, his head tilting to look up at the hrothgar. He couldn’t help but notice the sharp cut of Jack’s nose against the light, the way that the oak bark of his fur set alight in the glow of the lamp. It made the elezen smile.

‘Yes and no…’ the hrothgar mumbled, fangs tripping up his lips over his lowered speech.

‘Thy words lose their meaning upon me.’

‘They, uh… they didn’t want me around anymore.’

There was a silence. There was the ice warm embrace of pity, such a double-edged sword, and there was the sun cold touch of comfort. 

Jack realised that silence gave him simply too much time to think. Noise had the tendency to shout over the thoughts, to drown out their words, to smudge their ugly pictures. It was a distraction; there was talk that would spread across the walls that distractions were a bad thing, a negative thing, something to be avoided, but in this moment, Jack would have given anything to be distracted.

The elezen placed his hand over Jack’s, who looked up at him with an expression lined with apprehension and shock. 

There was a silence that stretched with the tide.

And then, the hrothgar raised his arm closest to Urianger, settled it around the elezen’s slim shoulders and pulled him closer. The scholar took a deep breath, every nerve in his body tensing like spider web.

And then when Jack was about to let go of the Scion, Urianger relaxed and let his head rest on the hrothgar’s chest. Neither noticed that their hands were still entwined. And if they did, they didn’t mention it.

‘My thanks, Jack,’ Urianger said, voice creeping through the hrothgar’s fur like a lioness stalking through long Savannah grass.

‘What for? I didn’t really say much. I certainly didn’t give any advice for how you can move on.’

‘Thou didst not have to,’ the scholar replied, ‘the embrace was enough.’

Jack’s heart leapt from the sheer tenderness of Urianger’s tone; he was surprised that it did not burst from his chest like a bullet pushing through muscle. ‘Oh…’ he said, hushed and nervous, ‘you’re welcome… any time.’

Neither of them made a move to separate themselves. And as the flame on the end of the candlewick flickered and faded, behind the red glass of the elezen’s goggles, his eyes slipped shut and his breathing evened out with his heartbeat. 

Jack’s ears perked up at the sound of the quietest snores from the scholar. He smiled to himself, his thoughts lost to the privacy of his own self, and he sighed as he sealed himself to his fate of keeping his feelings private. For if they were voiced, it would surely only sour the earth and wither the plants.

And just how could he compare to Moenbryda? 

She was the elegant swan, and he the scavenging hyena.

She was the wind beneath the wings, and he the storm that broke them.

She was the moon that controlled the tide, and he the black hole that took and took but never gave back.

She was everything, and he was nothing.

Urianger would surely laugh in his face if he bent his knee and offered his heart.

And so, he accepted his silent fate.


End file.
